Date: Sat, 19 Jul 2003 08:31:55 -0700 (PDT)
From: "[iso-8859-1] Ray Morales"
Subject: Living In A box 01
This is a new series from me. I have another on-going series coming to a
rapid conclusion soon, i.e. Heartache, in the High School Section.
Disclaimer:
This story is fiction and is by no means depictive of the life of any
person, place or thing. It contains no penetrative sexual acts between
males YET and should only be read if it is legal to do so in your area.
Read at your own risk. All names are made up and any similarities are just
dumb luck. Copyright remains the property of this mysterious person who
calls himself Fjord.
Living In a Box
Chapter 01 - When Two Worlds Collide
By Fjord
It was early morning and James Masterson was sitting on the park
bench alone. He had just finished his job and the money he received was in
his jeans front right side pocket, all crumpled and dirty. James looked
like an ordinary homeless boy but as always looks were deceiving. He was
semi-homeless and he wasn't ordinary. His street friends called him
Jimmy. They didn't know his real name because he never told them. He was
about 5' 10" in height and had a nice slim body. His shoulder length hair
was dark brown. The hair that fell over his face mostly hid his beautiful
brown eyes. Behind his back, his friends called him the lost prince. This
was because he had a presence about him that somehow radiates elegance and
culture. But it was mostly because they wanted to get in his pants and he
wouldn't let them. Well, a few did get that privilege and they were never
the same after that. Somehow, those that he touched changed into either
better or worse characters.
Anyway, as James sat quietly, his eyes peered through his bangs and
spotted a body lying on the ground. No, not the body of the snoring old
drunk on the left side of his vision, but the curled up body of a teenage
boy lying next to a toppled garbage can, directly in front of him. He got
up and turned right to walk away, as he knew he should, but then after a
few steps he turned his head and looked back at the body. For a second he
hesitated but James finally went against his street instincts to walk away
and slowly approached the curled up body.
James prodded the back of the body with his right foot and got no
response. He knelt on one knee and turned the body to look at the face.
James gasped. The boy's face looked really bad. The face was dirty and
dried blood was smeared all over his face and chest. The boy was hugging
himself with his knees drawn up to his body. James placed his index finger
under the boy's nostrils and felt relief when he felt warm air blowing
out. The boy was alive.
"Wake up." James said as he shook the boy's shoulder. He did this
again for a few times until the boy's swollen eyelids cracked open. A pair
of bright blue eyes peeked through and the eyelids closed again.
"Come on, wake up dammit!" James said, losing his patience already. "I
haven't got all day." The eyelids opened again and this time terror shone
from the pair of striking blue eyes behind them. A whimper escaped from the
boy's bloody and cracked lips.
"D..don't hurt me, p..please. I..I'll do a..anything you w..want,"
the terrified boy stammered as he looked up at James. 'What if what I
wanted him to do was going to hurt him', James thought. Be careful of what
you ask for, James said to the boy in his mind. The boy was in terrible
shape and that was an understatement.
"Get up." James ordered quietly. The boy slowly got up, still
hugging his body and shivering. He was about three inches shorter than
James. Dried blood was smeared all over his spiky blond hair too. He looked
at James like an animal trapped.
James stared at the boy for a second and then turned right and
started walking. The boy stood there and then slowly limped to follow
James. He didn't know why he followed James but he knew that it was what he
was supposed to do. After a while he stopped at the nearest bench and sat
heavily on it.
"Please stop." the boy said wearily to James. James stopped and
turned to look at him. He stood there for a while and waited for the boy to
catch his breath. When it became obvious the boy was not going to get up
anytime soon, James went and sat next to him on the bench.
"Look, whoever you are, if you want my help we need to make a move soon.
Its still early and the bad guys are still in la-la land. If they see you
like this, you'll be dead meat, understand?" James said to the boy.
"Xavier. My name's Xavier," the boy replied softly. "Where are we
going?"
"My place. I also don't want anyone to follow us. It's my secret
home." James replied. "Let's go before I change my mind." James got up and
held out his right hand to help the boy get up. The boy, Xavier, took his
hand and slowly got up. James found out that the boy's hand was soft and
smooth and, against his will, liked the contact. As he got up, the boy held
James shoulder with his left hand for support. James instinctively wrapped
his right arm around his waist. Together, they slowly made their way
towards an old apartment building at the other side of the park. They
didn't enter from the front. They went to the back of the building to a
small iron door that was padlocked. He let go of the boy and proceeded to
unlock the door with a key from inside his left shoe. He tried to open the
door with as little noise as possible but the steel door still clanged
loudly when he opened it. A drunken voice from the room upstairs swore some
foul language about keeping the noise down.
"Get in," James said to the boy. After they got in, James locked
the door from the inside with the same padlock. James opened the door on
the left side of the dark corridor and ushered the boy into the room. He
flicked on the light switch and a bright fluorescent light illuminated the
surprisingly large yet sparsely furnished room. On the wall on his right, a
small frosted window let in the early morning sunlight. Below the window
was a kitchenette with hot plates. Next to it was a small fridge with a
wall-mounted cabinet above it. In front of the kitchenette was a small
round table with two round chairs tucked neatly underneath it. On the far
right corner of the room was a frosted glass walled shower cubicle. Next to
it on the right was a small porcelain sink with a mirror cabinet mounted on
the wall above it. In the center of the room was an unmade double bed. It
wasn't untidy. It just looked slept in. The head of the bed was against the
wall on the left. On the wall alongside the door entrance was a 3-seater
sofa with small bookshelf placed next to it.
"Nice place."
"It's home. Anyways, take your clothes off and get a shower
first. I need to look at your injuries after that." The boy took off his
clothes slowly and from the expression on his face, the exercise was rather
painful. He stripped down to his briefs and then looked at James. James was
staring at him all this while. "Em... you got a towel I can borrow?" He
said to James.
James went to the dresser that stood at the wall opposite the door
entrance, opened the second drawer from top and took out a thick yellow
towel and handed it to the boy. He went in the shower cubicle and closed
the sliding door. The blurry shape of the towel could be seen as he placed
it on the horizontal towel bar. The sound of falling water soon followed.
James shook his head as he kept watching the moving figure inside
his shower. He felt amazed at how easily he trusted the boy. But when he
looked at the dirty and bloody pile of clothes, he understood why. It was
the uniform of a private school at the other side of the city, where rich
people send their spoiled brats for high-class education in preparation for
their high-class society. It was St. Thomas or St. John or whatever. He
recognized the emblem. They were all the same old-fashioned schools with
old-fashioned values and probably with even more old-fashioned teachers.
The kid was a rich brat obviously but why he was at an area renowned for
street muggings, killings, rapes and prostitution begged for an
explanation. James knew most of the gangs around the area and he wondered
which one beat up the boy. James bent down to pick up the clothes, rummaged
through the pockets, removed some stuff and placed the clothes inside the
laundry basket next to the shower cubicle. He went to the dresser again and
took out fresh underwear, a cut-off jeans and a black Metallica T-shirt and
placed them neatly on the double bed. His clothes should fit the boy. They
were about the same size with James only a little taller than the boy. He
sat on the sofa looking at the stuff he took out from the boy's clothes and
waited for the boy to finish. Finally, he closed his eyes and just zoned
out.
When he opened his eyes, the boy was out of the shower wearing just
the towel around his waist, sitting on the bed. He was looking at
James. His short hair was messy but nice.
"Thanks, man. You saved my life I guess." The boy said suddenly.
James ignored him and went to get the first aid kit under the bed near
where the boy was sitting. James smelled his shower gel on the boy. His
heartbeat increased.
Placing the kit next to the boy, he looked at the boy and started
to inspect the wounds and bruises. The cut on his head wasn't deep and the
bleeding had stopped. After the blood and dirt was gone, the boy didn't
look too bad. The swollen eyes were probably due to crying. Otherwise, he
looked... beautiful. James couldn't breathe as he realized that he had
fallen in lust with the boy. He wanted to grab the boy and kiss him and
just suck his tongue and give pleasure to the boy.
"Are you okay?" The boy's voice startled James out of his
daydreaming. James nodded, opened the kit and started to administer first
aid. At least he could touch the boy for a while.
"You don't speak much do you?" The boy said to him after he
finished applying some salve on the head wound.
"No."
"I told you my name, what's yours?"
James kept quiet as he slid the kit under the bed again. He was
kneeling next to the boy when he looked up and said, "James. My name is
James."
The boy giggled hysterically and James was dumbfounded. What was
wrong with the name James?
"What's so funny?"
"You." The boy replied and started to giggle madly again. James was
curious and elated at the same time as he witnessed the boy actually being
happy at his expense. He waited until the boy could breathe normally
again. The boy then looked at him and smiled, taking James breath away,
again.
"You sounded so funny when you said 'James. My name is James.' It's
like Pierce Brosnan saying, 'My name is Bond. James Bond.' Hehehe." The boy
said and started in another giggling fit. All James was thinking was how
beautiful the boy was. How innocent. How pure. And finally, how James
totally needed to send the boy back to his rich family before the cops
tracked him down to his secret den.
"Get dressed. The clothes on the bed are for you and don't worry
they're all clean." James said. "I'm gonna take a shower. If you're hungry
there's some cereal in the upper cabinet and milk in the fridge. The bowl
and spoon are in the kitchenette drawers."
James took off his shirt and jeans and briefs and went into the
shower. He concentrated on cleaning up his body. He finished showering and
stepped out of the shower cubicle. The boy who was already dressed stood
looking at him with his eyes wide open. A bowl of cereal was in his right
hand an a spoon full of cereal was in his left hand.
"What now?" James asked exasperatedly.
"James, you're like naked..." The boy pointed out with the cereal
filled spoon.
James fought the instinct to cover his dick and nonchalantly made
wet foot tracks towards the dresser and took out another yellow towel. With
his back to the boy, James dried himself. He felt a hole being drilled on
each of his butt cheeks.
"Stop looking at my butt." James said to the dresser and got a gasp
from the boy behind him.
"I wasn't looking at your butt." The boy said nervously. James
turned his head and glanced at the boy behind him and rolled his eyes.
"Honest, I wasn't." The boy was desperate. "I'm not gay."
"Relax. I don't care. How do you want me to call you? Xavier is too
weird."
"Call me Savio. It's easier." He replied and James totally agreed.
James put on an Adidas T-shirt and cargo pants. He went to the
mirror cabinet and brushed his wet hair back. His eyes were visible now and
they were hypnotically beautiful. Thick eyelashes rimmed his big, beautiful
brown eyes. As James turned to the boy, he heard a gasp.
"Are you asthmatic or something, Savio?" James looked at the
boy. The boy just stared at him.
"Your eyes..."
"Yeah... What about my eyes?"
"They're be... brown."
"Thanks, Savio. You finally solved the mystery about my eye color."
James said playfully. He was used to the effect his unusual eyes had on
people. In fact, only a few people had seen his eyes up close. Savio had
just been added to the short list. "Now, tell me where you live and I'll
send you there. They're probably looking for you high and low. The cops
would be all over the park soon."
"I live in No. 2, Remington Street. I know how to get there from
here." Savio said defiantly.
"Okay. Now tell me, what happened?"
"I ran away from home."
"Not a good answer. Too predictable. Try again."
"I was attacked by a vampire last night."
"Funny but I am the only vampire around here and I didn't remember
attacking anyone."
"Alright. I lost my way and was mugged."
"Very warm."
"If you knew already, why do I have to tell you?"
"I just need a verbal confirmation from you."
"Okay. I was supposed to meet somebody at the park after school. I
was sitting at one of the bench when somebody jumped me. The next thing I
know, you were kicking me."
"Very good. But you left out the fact that that somebody was a good
looking blond haired boy named Adam who wanted to suck your dick for like
50 dollars."
"How did you know that?" Savio was looking at James with his mouth
wide agape. "Shit, you looked at the print out. Where is it? Give it back."
He almost shouted. Tears were brimming in his eyes, waiting to roll down
his smooth cheeks.
James handed him the crumpled piece of paper printed in
color. Savio snatched it away and tore it to pieces. His face was a study
of concentrated hate.
"I hate him. He tricked me. I was supposed to meet him here but he
didn't come." The tears were on free flow.
James took him by the shoulders and sat him down on the couch. He
felt sorry for the boy. Another Net scam. Lucky for the boy that he wasn't
raped or worse, killed. It was even more a miracle since the boy was pretty
good looking. Some guys in the neighborhood would spring a hardon from like
100 yards away if they spotted him. God was looking after this kid.
The boy sobbed against his shoulders until James' Adidas shirt was
wet with tears. Finally, Savio finished crying and James found a sleeping
boy on his shoulders. He carried the boy in his arms and put him in bed. He
felt like kissing the boy's forehead but stopped himself. It was not wise
to have any emotional connection with the boy, he told himself. However,
deep in his heart, James knew it was already too late. The boy, Savio, had
James at his mercy. James had fallen in love.
To be continued...
A new story. Hope you like it. Otherwise I'll just stop here. Tell me what
you think.
You can email me at fyiord@yahoo.com anytime.